


(End) Final Message

by MadasaMoriarty



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, I'm Sorry, Not A Fix-It, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 05:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11284578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadasaMoriarty/pseuds/MadasaMoriarty
Summary: Post CA:CW.Steve doesn't answer the phone.





	(End) Final Message

“ **You have reached '...uh...Steve. Rogers. Steve Rogers- or Capta-', please leave a message after the tone. _Beep.”_**

 

“... I can't believe I'm doing this. Using a flip phone. Seriously, did nobody tell you what a grandpa move this was? Geezus Steve. Honestly, walkie- talkies would have been better than this. Sure there's the whole 'limited range thing', but at least talkies are cool in that sort of- retro, normal childhood, covert ops kinda way. Seriously, this thing has aged me fifty years- I can feel the grey hairs....shit. This is- isn't... _beep.” **Message deleted.**_

 

“Hey Steve. Tony, its Tony. Obviously. Who else would be calling you from this number? That's not- _beep.” **Message deleted.**_

 

“Listen... Steve. There are some things I need to- I'm not- I didn't- _fuck...beep.” **Message deleted.**_

 

“Your answering message sucks. I hope you know that. Seriously. I've lost some respect for you with that thing, YOUR grandmother probably could've done better. I'm kidding, you know I'm kidding right Steve? I could never not respect you, my old man would rise from the dead and shoot me- I mean that's not why I couldn't- I lo-... _beep.” **Message deleted.**_

 

“I'm sorry Steve. I'm sorry for what I did to you- and the others. Tell Barnes I'm over it. Tell him, I forgive him for- and tell the team I'm sorry- for all that stupid shit. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, ya' know? Can't seem to help myself. God, I'm such a fuck up. Always have been... things are gonna get better for you Steve. Where I'm going I won't be able to fuck anything up. Hell, maybe I'll see my old man...I'll give him your love- _beep.” **Message deleted.**_

 

“ _..._ Steve _....I'm scared....beep.” **Message deleted.**_

 

“This isn't on you, okay? This is me Steve. Okay? This is all on me.- _beep.” **Message deleted.**_

 

“I was never gonna be worth you was I? Gaw, I coulda lived a thousand years, as a fucking _saint_ and I still wouldn't hold a wet candle to you would I? Huuhhh. Steve. Ste-eeve.... don't answer the phone okay? Okay? I love you.... _beep.” **Message deleted.**_

 

Steve pushed into his tiny apartment, covered in sweat, Captain America costume badly hidden beneath his frumpled clothes. He dropped his keys in the bowl beside the door, next to the little red flip phone that was the twin of the one he'd given to Tony what felt like years ago- but couldn't have been more than six months. He didn't spare the phone much thought until it _dinged_ suddenly, rattling the shallow wooden bowl. Frowning he scooped it up, squinting at the rocking image of an envelope, the word 'voicemail' flashing in tiny letters beneath. Feeling his heart jump in his chest he flipped it open, calling up the voicemail carefully, the large buttons dwarfed by his larger fingers. His hands were shaking as he pressed the device to his ear.

 

**'You have _one_ new message. Message _one.'_**

 

“.....I'm sorry.... _ **”**_

 

 _**'** _ **End of final message'**

 

Steve stood in his hallway, phone pressed to his ear, and didn't move for a long time. His heart was beating too fast. He tried to convince himself that it had been nothing more than drunken regrets, chased away by tomorrow's hangover...but the ice in his belly wouldn't let him. Tony's voice had sounded so... breathy and _weak._ His mind immediately went to that last fight, looking down at Tony's bruised face. His breath rattling in his chest. It had been like that- but so much worse. Why?

 

He forced himself to return the phone to it's place, to believe that wherever Tony was he was hale and healthy and sleeping if off in a bed with a higher thread count than Steve had money in the bank. That if Tony needed him, really NEEDED him, that he would have said so. He went to bed that night and his dreams were full of blood and wrent armour.

 

The next morning the paper read 'IRON MAN MOURNED' and Steve's nightmares were splashed across it in black and white.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a bad mood writing this so it might not be great.  
> Very similar to another work of mine lol.  
> I'd love some reviews.


End file.
